


So Tonight Make a Wish

by Chromi



Series: Take My Breath Away [Tumblr SFW Prompt Fills] [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, F/M, Marriage Proposal, NaNoWriMo 2020, Pregnancy, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27595045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromi/pseuds/Chromi
Summary: Roger has a surprise waiting in the living room for Rouge.
Relationships: Gol D. Roger/Portgas D. Rouge
Series: Take My Breath Away [Tumblr SFW Prompt Fills] [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017327
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	So Tonight Make a Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Quickly written for the prompt “I wanna show you something.” / “Okay, and the last time you told me that, I got pregnant.”

“Darling, I don't understand,” Rouge giggled as the blindfold – her own cardigan folded over several times – was slipped over her eyes and carefully tied at the back of her head. “What is this in aid of? It isn't our anniversary, nor my birthday...”

Behind her, she felt Roger smile more than heard anything from him, and certainly more than she could now see. The air around them, their little pocket of happiness and quiet warmth, always did seem to fizzle with captivating energy whenever Roger smiled.

“Do I need a reason to want to surprise you?” Roger asked, his hands coming to rest atop Rouge's shoulders, heavy and steady and all things comforting and _good._

“Have you done something naughty?” Rouge asked, teasing, adopting a scolding tone that carried no sincerity.

Roger made a mock horrified sound. His touch slid from her shoulders to map her arms, her wrists, coming to tuck into her hands and grasp them firmly, reassuringly, warm and strong. “Now what would give you that idea?” He asked, feigning hurt. “I just want to show you something, that's all.”

Rouge hummed in disbelief. When Roger circled her to stand in front of her, Rouge stepped in closer until they were touching, his breath barely ghosting her cheeks. “Last time you told me that,” she said through a small smile, “I got pregnant.”

A feeble line as it may well have been, it had worked, hadn't it? Rouge snickered when Roger snorted at the memory – a scene that involved a pool table, a dim bar, and Roger leaning in with beer clinging to his moustache, delivering what his tipsy mind clearly thought was a winning offer that his girlfriend couldn't possibly resist. Well, in a sense, he had been right on the money, for she _had_ quite liked what he had shown her in the privacy of their bedroom, despite it hardly being a surprise three years into their relationship.

Releasing her hands slowly, Roger instead turned his palms to cradle her bump, stroking little circles there. “Five months already,” he murmured, and Rouge knew he was looking at her in that tender way she loved most. “Feels like it was only yesterday you were throwing me in a cab to—”

“I thought,” Rouge cut him off with a cheerfully no-nonsense edge to her tone, “you had something to show to me?”

Yet her hands came to rest atop his, holding him in place for a moment longer. The minute increase in pressure against her bump gave away that Roger was leaning in, and Rouge tilted her chin to meet him in a delicate, soft kiss that carried the weight of the life they had created together.

“This way,” Roger murmured, turning his palms back in to meet hers, lacing his fingers with hers where they belonged. “I'm going to lead you into the living room.”

She stepped with him, learning his path, light and nimble as a dancer copying her teacher through motions she would soon know better than her own thoughts.

The door between kitchen and living room opened, the hinge squeaking as it always did, the handle knocking gently to the wall when Roger let it swing. He led, and she followed, as she always would, as she knew he would do the same when the time came to ask him to step into the unknown for her, trust worn as armor, love his weapon of choice.

(His default, the only thing he would wield around her, stronger for it; stronger and vivacious because she was his Reason and he was blessed to have found her when the world had otherwise gone dark.)

The cardigan was rough against her skin when he slipped it up and off her face; she kept her eyes closed, face ducked down to suppress the urge to open them until the right moment.

“Go ahead,” Roger encouraged, squeezing her hands before letting go again.

She opened them, eyelashes fluttering as she blinked once, twice.

She looked up, puzzled, Roger having disappeared.

Movement in the bottom of her periphery.

She looked down and gasped, hands flying to her mouth—

For Roger was down on one knee, a little navy-blue box open in his hands, bearing a beautiful gold ring with a diamond set in the middle.

“Roger,” Rouge breathed, but trailed off when he opened his mouth, cheeks a lovely, endearing shade of pink.

“Rouge,” he said a little too quickly, his voice shaking just enough to belie the nerves he was attempting to keep pressed down, “the last three years have been the most incredible of my whole life. You have given me purpose; you have loved me so completely and so intensely, proving to me that true love is real, not just something found in stories and movies. You've—” He faltered, swallowed, and when he continued, his voice cracked. “The day you told me you were pregnant, Rouge, it was the happiest day of my life. From the moment you first kissed me, first let me love you like I always secretly have done, I knew I wanted a family with you. I knew I wanted to get old and forgetful with you.”

Rouge sputtered a laugh between her fingers, her cheeks soaked with tears.

“We've been on so many adventures together through the years,” Roger said, his eyes shining, his hands trembling, “so would you like to go on another with me? Will you marry me?”

She was nodding before he finished the proposal, sinking down onto her knees to join him. Roger's immediate reaction was to take her elbow, to help her down, but Rouge barely noticed this.

Cupping his cheeks, she pressed close enough to place what had to be a rather wet kiss to his lips, sniffing heavily when she pulled away. His gaze was searching, bordering on bemused, when Rouge leaned back on her knees, ankles cushioning underneath herself, and said, “of course I will, darling.”

She barely had a second to note the enormous grin that split his face before Roger had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a fierce hug, kissing her cheek, her ear, her hair. She squeaked as she was wrapped in his embrace, one hand flying instinctively to her belly despite how Roger only squashed them chest to chest, unconsciously protecting his unborn child from his own happiness.

“I love you,” Roger mouthed to her neck, burying his face there, “Rouge, darling, sweetheart, beloved, I love you so much—thank you, _thank you_ , I'll do my best to make you the happiest person in the whole damn world—”

His voice came out muffled, thick with emotion; her neck felt wet, but Rouge could hardly comment, her own tears soaking into his shirt, her one palm still at his cheek, fingers threading through his thick hair. It tangled as she slid them in deeper, caressing lovingly. If it hurt when she accidentally snagged on a knot, Roger sure didn't show any indication.

“I love you too,” Rouge said soothingly. “You're going to make a fantastic husband—a fantastic dad.” Again, Rouge felt Roger's hand press to the back of hers at her bump, his fingers once again filling the spaces between her own—

Filling in where without him, she was merely space and air, empty and floating, floating, a void.

“But why the blindfold?” Rouge asked. “Why did I need to be blindfolded and led in here?”

She was immensely thankful for the lack of a grand gesture. The thought of being publicly proposed to like in the movies, like in popular television shows, had always sent a cold shiver down her spine. A proposal, in her opinion, was something intimate and deeply personal, and certainly not something to be regarded as a spectator’s sport whose finale was a round of applause from unknown faces. She wondered if Roger felt the same; she had never asked, never brought up the proposal itself, always comfortable in the assumption that with or without a ring and a signature, they were at least bound for life through mutual love and respect.

But that wasn't to say that this... this was _perfect_. A home proposal, just the two of them. No whistles and bangs; no staring eyes watching for her reaction.

Just Roger. Just Rouge.

Just them.

Roger leaned back slightly, thumbing away tears. “So you wouldn't see the banner,” he said matter-of-factly.

Rouge frowned a tiny frown, eyebrow quirking upwards. “Banner?”

“The banner,” Roger said, matching her frown. “I set it up while you were cutting up the carrots. Didn't you notice me closing the door?”

She had, but had thought nothing of it.

“There's no banner,” Rouge whispered, struggling to stop herself from giggling now what with how perplexed Roger looked.

He whipped round, swore loudly, and clambered to his feet immediately, grunting with the sudden exertion.

“It fell down!” He moaned, scooping up the heap of paper at the far end of the living room that Rouge hadn't noticed before, given that Roger had been all that filled her vision. “I pinned it up; I worked for _ages_ on this with the guys—that's what we were doing last weekend when I went over; we didn't go out for a curry, we stayed up all night painting this thing – and you didn't even get to—”

She was laughing in earnest now, masking Roger's defeated sigh as he stared forlornly at her, arms full of paper. “Let's put it up together,” Rouge suggested through her giggles, getting heavily to her feet also before Roger could rush forward and help her up. “If you put the stepladder back up, I'll pin it up again, okay?” She stretched up on her tiptoes, placed a kiss to his cheek, and added with a cheeky grin, “you can even propose again under the banner this time, if you'd like to.”

She squealed in delight as Roger dipped and scooped her up in his arms, twirling her on the spot in a brilliant display of strength. “You're gonna regret saying that,” he grinned at her. “I rehearsed at least four different speeches – you'll get a whole new one this time round.”

“And I'll play my part perfectly,” Rouge parried, sweeping a fake, dramatic swoon backwards in Roger's arms, “you won't be able to tell I know what's coming.”

He kissed her again, and she pulled him into it, a hand to the nape of his neck. She loved him, and he her, and that was all she had ever wanted from him. Everything else that came their way was a bonus, was so _excellent_ – and Rouge shone with her affection.

**Author's Note:**

> I love chatting, so feel free to send me a message on either [Tumblr](https://chromiwrites.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Chromiwrites)! I'm always open to requests and anything else you can think of!


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